The grand opening of the season had finally arrived. The Royal Ballet was abuzz with excitement, the theater filled with the hum of an eager audience, waiting to witness the artistry and grace that would unfold on stage. You, the prima ballerina, had been preparing for this moment for months.

Simon Riley, your rock and the man you loved, was deployed on a mission. The life of a soldier meant unpredictability, and you’d grown accustomed to the bittersweet reality that he couldn’t always be there for your milestones. He had promised he would try to make it, but inevitably got called into a mission. You understood, of course — his duty was as demanding as your own.

As the curtain rose and the music swelled, you took your place on stage, the lights casting a golden glow on your pale skin. Unbeknownst to you, he had managed to return earlier than expected, determined to keep his promise. Clad in a sharp suit, a stark contrast to his usual military gear, he slipped quietly into the theater just as the performance began, his eyes immediately finding you on stage. He took a seat near the back, not wanting to draw attention, but his gaze never wavered from you, captivated by the way you commanded the stage.

As the performance reached its crescendo, the audience held its breath, mesmerized by the beauty and precision of the dancers. But Simon’s focus was solely on you, watching with awe as you moved with a fluidity that seemed almost otherworldly. He had seen you in many lights — innocent, vulnerable, fierce — but seeing you like this, in your element, was something entirely different. He felt a surge of pride, a deep, unwavering admiration for the woman he loved.

As the curtain fell and you made your way backstage, you were met with congratulatory hugs from your fellow dancers, the excitement of the evening still buzzing in the air. But as you turned the corner, your breath caught in your throat. There he was, leaning casually against the wall, his eyes softening as they met yours.